


Makeover Day

by bumblebi221



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Funny, Gen, Makeover, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebi221/pseuds/bumblebi221
Summary: John and Mrs. Hudson, inspired by watching Connie Prince on the TV, decide to try their own hands at makeover. Takes place during S1 of BBC Sherlock.Taken from my story on Wattpad, as I'm moving all my fanfiction over to here.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 16





	1. Rainy Day Fun

It was an ordinary, rainy day in 221B. John was in the sitting room with Mrs. Hudson, watching Connie Prince on the television. Sherlock was off at the lab doing an analysis of some type of dust. John still hadn't found a job yet, but Mrs. Hudson was more than happy to spend some time with him. This was their fifth week watching Connie Prince together.

"Now, pay attention everyone, we're going to do her eyeliner!" The screen flashed to a close-up of a woman's eyes being done.

"I wish we could do that," sighed Mrs. Hudson.

"Do what?" John asked, looking away from the screen.

"Do the makeovers," she answered.

"We do do the makeovers," John said. "You've completely changed your wardrobe since we've started watching her, and I've picked up a few new items myself."

"No, I mean the makeup," Mrs. Hudson replied. "I could do yours, you could do mine."

"No, no way. I'm not wearing makeup," John laughed. "Not a chance." Mrs. Hudson looked sad and turned back to the screen.

"Alright, it was just an idea," she said. John felt bad for Mrs. Hudson. He and Sherlock rarely did stuff that she wanted to do. Actually, he couldn't remember the last time they did something of her choosing.

"Okay, fine. I'll do the makeup. But it has to be subtle! I don't want any bright green eye shadow or anything like that. Alright?" John relented.

"Oh, hooray! I'm so excited!" Mrs. Hudson said as a smile spread across her face. "I'll go and get my stuff!" John wondered what he had gotten himself into.

Not five minutes later, Mrs. Hudson returned carrying a large decorated box with a small bag stacked on top. Inside the box and bag were various brushes, mirrors, pens, powders, and other items used to decorate one's face. She set them down on the desk, clearing away the numerous papers and junk that littered the surface. John went over and looked inside the box, overwhelmed by how many supplies Mrs. Hudson had brought. He picked up a bottle of nail polish that had caught his attention and eyed it warily. The glittery, deep blue paint was pretty and looked like the night sky. It reminded him of Sherlock. He blushed and set it down again, crossing his arms afterward.

"You certainly are prepared, Mrs. Hudson, I'll give you that," he chuckled, recovering from the nail polish. "It looks like you stole a whole beauty salon." Mrs. Hudson swatted his arm, laughing.

"Would you like to go first, or should I?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"You can go first," John said after a pause. "What do I do?" Mrs. Hudson gave him a brief lesson on applying makeup, making him decorate the back of her hand and the inside of her wrist. "Okay, what colors do you want?" he asked. Mrs. Hudson had finally deemed him skilled enough to apply it to her face.

"Well, what does Connie say?" She replied, washing the practice makeup off her hand.

Half an hour later, John had finished giving Mrs. Hudson her makeover. He got one of the several mirrors and brought it over to her. "How did I do?"

"Oh, John! It's wonderful! I look..." She trailed off, too excited for words.

"Like a queen," John finished for her. She had purple eye shadow, and dark eye liner. Her lipstick was a deep red (but not cerise), and she had rouge on her cheeks. The colors were bright, but the application restrained. Her nails were painted a pale shade of pink, slightly darker and redder than her natural nails, but close enough to not draw attention from her face. She truly did look royal.

"Thank you, John." She grinned. "It's your turn now!" John gave a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't be too bad.


	2. John's Turn

Mrs. Hudson started with trimming and filing John's nails, but received some protesting from him when she went to pick a color to paint them.

"No, no nail polish," he said, pulling back his hands. "Too much."

"Oh, come on, John," she pleaded. "You can clean it off to go out, but no one will see it here." John sighed and placed his hands back on the table.

"Oh, goodie!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "Do you have a color in mind?"

"Why would I... um... I guess... that deep blue one. Yeah, the shimmery one," he said, blushing. Mrs. Hudson set the bottle down on the desk and uncapped it. One by one, she did the first coat, doing his left hand and then his right hand. She put the cap back on while the first coat dried. While they were waiting, she started on his face. She grabbed some foundation and began to match the appropriate shade. She found the match for his skin type, and then went back to his hands to do the second coat of polish. Next, she scrubbed his face raw and applied the foundation. Then she reached for the eyeliner. He tried not to blink as she applied it, and he nearly gave in, but he managed to keep his eyes open. Mrs. Hudson then reached for the eye shadow.

"What color do you want for the shadow?" Mrs. Hudson asked him. She had a variety of colors, but none seemed subtle enough for John. After what seemed like ages, he finally settled on a bronze one. Mrs. Hudson began to apply it. The brush tickled and John tried not to laugh. When she had finished, John couldn't help but giggle in make-up induced giddiness. It all seemed ridiculously funny to him once he had loosened up. When he finally calmed down, Mrs. Hudson applied the rouge, but the brush just set him off again. Suddenly, Mrs. Hudson started laughing, and they were both out of breath, stomach-hurts laughing themselves silly.

"We should have a fashion show," said John in between breaths. "With the new clothes." He giggled again. "Baker Street Wear." Mrs. Hudson continued to laugh.

"We need a runway," she answered at last. "Or a long rug," she added.

"Like Sherlock's coat," John chuckled. Mrs. Hudson sat thinking for a few minutes.

"I have some old curtains," she said. "From when I redecorated my flat."

"Those'll do," said John. "You get the clothes, I'll get the curtains."

Once the curtains had been laid on the ground, they decided who would walk first. Still giddy with the makeup, John volunteered. He went to the bathroom to change, as that was where their carpet started. He put on a white shirt and a black and white patterned suit, and wore shiny black shoes. After a once-over in the mirror, making sure his hair was neat, he opened the door and stepped on the runway, met with applause from Mrs. Hudson.

"Strike a pose, John!" She encouraged. John paused and put one hand on his hip, and the other behind his head. After a beat, he strutted down the curtain runway.

"Oh, John, you look fabulous!" Mrs. Hudson cheered. John laughed. He was having much more fun than he had thought he would, though he didn't plan on admitting it. When he reached the end of the runway he paused, struck another pose, and turned and walked back to the bathroom door.

"Okay, now it's my turn!" John went over to the sitting room where the carpet ended to wait for Mrs. Hudson to walk. In a few minutes, she came out wearing a purple dress that matched her makeup, complimented by a string of pearls around her neck and a gold bangle around her wrist. She wore black heels, but they were short and so she had no trouble strutting down the carpet. She acted like she was really on the runway. John decided he should be the announcer.

"And now we have Martha Hudson modelling a lovely purple dress for us, and she has chosen to go with it a stunning pearl necklace and a beautiful gold bracelet," he said in a mock-announcer voice.   
"Look at those heels! Amazing! She's really wowing the crowd, listen to them cheer!" John clapped very loudly then and took on the role of the audience.

Soon, Mrs. Hudson had finished walking, and they were back in front of the television wondering how to spend the rest of the day. The fashion fun had ended too soon, and they were trying to come up with other glam things to do, when there was a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is Sherlock there? I need his help with something." John, forgetting his makeup and outfit, went to let Lestrade in.


	3. Fashion Police

Lestrade came in, closing the door behind him. His face was red and he was sweating. His hair was all messed up and he looked like he had just come in a hurry.

"Oh, hey John, is Sherlock here?" he asked. "I need him to-" He squinted at John and blinked a few times. "Are you wearing makeup? And a suit?"

"Oh, um," John stammered, "Mrs. Hudson and I were just, um, doing... makeovers." John's cheeks were reddening. "Fashion show."

"Oh, alright," said Lestrade, visibly confused. Mrs. Hudson poked John.

"John," she whispered. "We could give Greg a makeover." John chuckled.

"We could," he said. Lestrade's confusion was growing.

"Could what?" He asked while Mrs. Hudson made her way to the desk by the opposite wall, where all the supplies were. John went behind Lestrade and pushed him over.

“Sit,” he said.

“John, what’s... I’m not going to… why?”

“Because we’re bored and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” answered John. “Now, Mrs. Hudson, what shall we do?” They started with scrubbing his face raw.

“Would you like any nail polish, Greg?” asked Mrs. Hudson.

“What? No, I -” he looked up and saw their hopeful faces. “Oh, alright. Might as well.”

“What color?”

“Um, whatever you want.” John went to the box and picked out a bottle of hot pink polish, while the inspector regretted his words. He applied the polish while Mrs. Hudson worked on Lestrade’s face. The two probably used every kind of make up they had. Lipstick, mascara, eye liner, eye shadow, rouge, foundation, not to mention the hair. They gelled and spiked it until it looked positively ridiculous, and put clips and pins in it wherever they wanted. They were no longer focusing on honing their makeover skills. This was pure mischief at its finest.

“And now the outfit,” John declared, grinning madly. He went away for a few minutes and came back with a bag of clothes. He handed it to Greg. “Put these on and then you can walk down the runway. You look fabulous, Greg, absolutely fabulous.” Lestrade rolled his eyes and went to the bathroom to change. Sometimes being a good friend was tiring, but, in addition to making John and Mrs. H happy, he did enjoy it a little bit.

Within minutes, Lestrade came out of the bathroom. He was dressed in a leather biker outfit that Mrs. Hudson had had in her room (now don’t ask why), a pink feather boa, and knee-high magenta leather cowboy boots. He sighed and strutted down the runway, giving it his all. Mrs. Hudson and John cheered and whooped and clapped as he posed and turned. As he walked back up the runway, he had a big smile on his face. He came back to join the others.

“How’d I do?” he asked.

“Splendid!” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Well, I thought your form could’ve been better,” said John. “But it was excellent entertainment.”

“I’m glad you thought that was funny, I tried really hard.” Lestrade’s mock anger faded into a smile. The three stood there for a while until Mrs. Hudson decided to make some tea.

“Doesn’t mean I’m your housekeeper, though,” she said on her way to the kitchen. She came back bearing tea and biscuits, and the three sat around and chatted for a while until Lestrade got up.

“Well, I should get going,” he said. “Thanks for the good time.” He had almost reached the door when he stopped and realized he still had on the makeup. “I guess I should wash this off, then.” He headed for the bathroom.

“Wait!” John called. “I need a picture!” He got up and ran after the detective. There was a click of the camera, and the door shut. John came back into the sitting room. “Mrs. H, do you want a picture, too?”

“Sure, dear.” John came over and snapped a photo. “You need one too, John,” she laughed. “Give the camera here.”

“Alright,” John said. “But never show these to anyone other than us three.” Click. Then the bathroom door opened, and out came Lestrade, looking as if he had never been roped into the fashion show. His face was plain and he was back in his normal clothes.

“See you later, guys,” he said. “Tell Sherlock to contact me ASAP.”

“Will do.” The door shut behind Lestrade and John and Mrs. Hudson were left to clean up the make up from the desk. Mrs. Hudson brought the box and bag back downstairs to her flat and John was left by himself. He decided to start blogging the recent case Sherlock had solved that he hadn’t gotten around to writing up yet. He grabbed his laptop and sat down at the desk.


	4. Epilogue

Slowly but surely, John was making his way through the case, typing with his two index fingers. He could hear Mrs. Hudson downstairs cleaning, and the cars passing by on Baker Street. He was startled by the turn of the doorknob. In walked Sherlock, papers in hand. He seemed to be deep in thought as he approached the desk. He set down his papers and picked up another stack that had been left there.

“Hey, Sherlock,” said John.

“John! Just who I need to see. I-” he stopped mid sentence. “I, uh.” His face was turning red. “I just remembered. I have a thing. To do. In there.” He went to his room blushing. John was confused. Sherlock almost never acted like this. He turned and saw himself reflected in the mirror above the fireplace. In his eagerness to type up the case, he had forgotten to wash the makeup off. Now it was John’s turn to blush. He buried his face in his hands. Then he heard a faint laughing sound coming from Sherlock’s room.

“Sherlock? What’s so funny? I heard you laughing and-” John stopped dead in his tracks. Sherlock was sitting on his bed, camera in hand, looking at the photos. Mrs. Hudson must have left it on the papers that he had grabbed and, being completely unaware of things at times, had picked it up with the papers. As he usually did when left alone with an electronic device, he had turned it on and started to look at its contents.

“These are good, John. Very good. One question,” Sherlock said, still laughing. John glared at him. “I’m not surprised at you and Mrs. Hudson, but how on earth did you get Gavin to join you?” John blinked a few times. That was his one question?

“What? It’s Greg… um… why are you not surprised at me?” John asked.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Nothing,” Sherlock said, still smiling but no longer laughing. Go back to typing up the case. I have work to do. Lots of work.” John left without another word, though he did throw a confused glance over his shoulder as he walked back to the desk. Outside, the rain had finally stopped, though it still hadn’t cleared up.


End file.
